


It's Just A Little Crush

by alkjira



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, TWO IDIOTS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'...what followed next was the most confusing conversation in Bofur’s life, and yes, that included all the conversations with Bifur just after the axe had gotten stuck and his cousin thought that he was a seagull. (The shrieking hadn’t been nearly as nerve-wracking as the attempts to fly.)'</p>
<p>This is basically the story of Thorin and Bofur being idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just A Little Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Lol, this is perhaps a collection of my favourite romantic clichés, hope someone else will enjoy as well.
> 
> Written in one go, beware of my grammar.

It wasn’t particularly proper to have a crush on your King, but then again, Bofur had never claimed to be a very proper kind of Dwarf. And as a second point in his defence he would argue: Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thrór.  
  
How _anyone_ could look at him and not develop a crush the size of a Stone Giant was beyond comprehension. And Thorin was a very convenient person to have a crush on as well, considering that he was the opposite of available. Not only was he the King, but not once over the years had Bofur heard even a rumour of Thorin courting someone. Clearly it was not something that interested him. So he was the perfect subject for a crush that you didn't intend to do anything about.  
  
But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t admire him from afar, wax poetic about the silver strands in his hair, the pale sapphire of his eyes, the line of his shoulders and the thousand other appealing qualities, (really, what had Mahal been thinking putting so much perfection into one Dwarf). You just needed to remember that nothing would ever happen beyond that, and as long as you did remember that, what was the harm?

  
  
The day Bofur agreed to go on a mad quest across the world to try and kill a Dragon simply because Thorin had asked for people to join him he did take a moment to mull over if this was really something you’d do for someone you’d had a crush on. But he argued to himself that it was probably the promise of free beer that had pushed him into accepting. Or loyalty to his King, yes. That was probably it. He would have accepted even if his King had been less… Thorin. Yes.

  
  
A little over half a year later Bofur was forced to again reconsider his definition of a crush as his knees literally would not hold his weight when Balin told him that yes, Thorin would _live_ , his wounds -while bad - would not kill him.   
  
But at the end of that discussion with himself he concluded that it still was only a crush. After all, he’d also been greatly relieved to hear the good news about Fíli and Kíli, so it was just related to not wanting people that he’d grown close to die on him.  
  
Not that he and Thorin were close, exactly. Thorin was still his King after all. And Kings did not become friends with miners-turned-toymakers who they had bribed with free beer. The two of them were, _friendly_. That’s all.   
  
Bofur could admit that it had been a lovely surprise to learn that Thorin didn’t only have a pleasing outside, he was also… well nice was the wrong word. Bilbo was nice. Thorin was…   
He had a quiet but wicked sense of humour, he was loyal and unwavering in his devotion to the quest and his kin, and he could be incredibly kind, especially to the children they’d met along the way.

And he had an endearingly bad sense of direction while above ground that meant that he preferred to let someone else take the lead while he mingled with the rest of the company, checking that everyone was faring well. He didn’t do it in a nice way, no, it was more of a brusque inquiring thing, but if anyone had a complaint, he listened, and he tried to do something about it. Unless it had something to do with the weather of course, because if the Wizard couldn’t help that, obviously Thorin couldn’t either.  
  
All in all, Bofur wasn’t surprised that his crush hadn’t faded upon actually getting to know the object of his yearning looks. But what Bofur entirely _failed_ to consider was that usually his crushes didn’t really hang around for over half a year, regardless of if he got to know the person or not.  
  
(Not to mention that his ‘crush’ on Thorin had been following him for even longer than that.)

 

A few months later the members of the Company were all gathered together for dinner, as had become their custom. Everyone usually couldn’t join; they were all busy people, but this particular evening they had all gathered in the royal dining hall.   
  
Bilbo had been looking antsy throughout dinner, sneaking glances towards Thorin and then quickly looking away, and when their Hobbit got to his feet and cleared his throat; Thorin straightening in his chair and looking unfairly regal and lovely, Bofur rather expected them to announce that they would begin courting.   
  
They’d admittedly gotten off on completely the wrong foot, but after Bilbo had saved Thorin’s life there’d been that hug that had just gone on and on, and Thorin had been a lot warmer towards Bilbo after that. And then Bilbo had continued to save them, and he and Thorin had grown closer up until the whole Arkenstone debacle.   
  
Bofur didn’t much like thinking about the look in Thorin’s eyes as he’d threatened to throw Bilbo down from the wall. The Men’ and the Elves’ demands had been unreasonable, and what Bilbo had done had not been fair, but the glint of - dared he say madness? - in Thorin’s eyes had been a deeply frightening thing.

Then came the battle, and after that Thorin’s gaze had been clear, except from the shadow of pain that had lingered until very recently.   
  
While Thorin had been on what they all had though would be his deathbed he and Bilbo had reconciled, and there was no denying that Bilbo cared deeply for the King. He’d cried for hours after he’d left the tent.  
  
They were both wonderful people, more than deserving of one another, so as Bilbo cleared his throat Bofur told that squirming feeling in his stomach to kindly go away and be happy for them. He just had a crush, nothing more. No need to get upset about anything.  
  
“So, um, as I’ve already told Thorin, I’m going to go back to the Shire as soon as-“  
  
“ _What_?” Bofur couldn’t really believe what he was hearing.  
  
“I miss my home,” Bilbo said with a small smile. “I’m glad you got yours back, and it’s much nicer here than I would have thought, but I don’t really belong here. I’ve stayed much longer than I thought, and now with spring coming-”  
  
“But-“ Bofur glanced towards Thorin, and found to his surprise that Thorin was looking right back, wearing a sad look that quickly disappeared when he noticed that Bofur was looking.   
  
“But-“  
  
Bofur didn’t really know where he was going with this. Thorin had known that Bilbo was leaving, so he and Bilbo must have talked about it, and if Thorin hadn’t been able to convince their burglar to stay then he could hardly expect to succeed.   
  
“You’ll be missed,” Bofur said instead, sternly telling himself that it wasn’t his place to ask _how_ Bilbo could do something like this to Thorin. Of course Bilbo would have to leave, if that was what he wanted. It was just… Bofur couldn’t really understand how someone could want a place more than they wanted Thorin. He was… _Thorin_.

(Yeah, some crush this.)

Trying to ease his guilt about being a bit (just a bit mind you) upset with Bilbo for breaking Thorin’s heart, Bofur spent the majority of the next few days with Bilbo, helping him get ready to leave, while at the same time trying to find some way to make him stay.   
  
But nothing worked and about a week after he’d made the announcement, Bilbo and his escort (of course Thorin sent an escort, he’d hardly let Bilbo walk off on his own) left on horseback for Dale, where Bard would then arrange passage to Mirkwood, and then it would be up to the Elven King to get Bilbo safely to Rivendell.

For many reasons, Bilbo’s safety being a primary one, Bofur hoped that the journey to the Shire would be a smooth one, because he didn’t really fancy Thorin declaring war on the Elves because they lost his… well, his Bilbo.

Much like he had on the Carrock, Thorin embraced Bilbo, and Bilbo whispered something to the King and patted his back. Whatever it was made Thorin shake his head and look pained, and it prompted a stubborn look on Bilbo’s face, and another whisper.  
  
While it was not possible to know exactly what had been said Bofur could imagine, and having already said his own good-byes he went up to the battlements to think and watch as the small group rode out.  
  
He heard someone following behind him, but figured that it was Kíli or Fíli. The footsteps were too soft to be Bombur, too heavy to belong to Nori, and if it wasn’t one of those two it was probably one of the lads coming to see Bilbo off as well. But it wasn’t either one of those, and what followed next was the most confusing conversation in Bofur’s life, and yes, that included all the conversations with Bifur just after the axe had gotten stuck and his cousin thought that he was a seagull. (The shrieking hadn’t been nearly as nerve-wracking as the attempts to fly.)  
  
“You can go with him. It’s not too late.”  
  
Startled Bofur whipped his head around to watch as Thorin joined him at the wall. His King looked tired. And sad. And Bofur’s heart ached sympathetically. (Yes, _sympathy_.)  
  
“Go with who?”  
  
“Our burglar,” Thorin said with a small frown.  
  
“I think he’ll make it to Dale with the escort you sent,” Bofur said, tilting his head in confusion. “And I’d rather not go to Mirkwood if it’s all the same. Never know when the Elven King will wake up in a cranky mood and decide that his dungeon would look better with some handsome Dwarfs in them. He’d be right of course but even so.”  
  
“That’s not-“ Thorin’s frown deepened. “I know you’ll miss him.”  
  
“Well of course I’ll miss him,” Bofur said, still confused. “We’ll all miss him. Except maybe the cooks because I think they were planning a rebellion if he wouldn’t keep out from the kitchens.”

“You can go with him,” Thorin said again, nodding down at the small figures growing increasingly smaller. “He was planning to stay a night in Dale, it’d be easy enough to-“  
  
“But I don’t want to go with him.”  
  
“You don’t?”  
  
Bofur awkwardly pulled on one of the flaps to his hat. “Well, then I’d gone with him I expect.” He wasn’t the King after all, he didn’t need to stay to rule a kingdom. But why was Thorin- “Do _you_ want me to go with him?”  
  
Maybe Thorin wanted someone to make sure that Bilbo go back to the Shire in one piece, and while it was flattering that Thorin would then think of him it was also a bit… ridiculous. Dwalin would have been a much better choice, but… Bofur’s heart sank. Thorin probably wouldn’t want to do without Dwalin for almost a year. But he would probably not miss _him_.

“Wha- no,” Thorin said. “I- _no_.”  
  
Bofur tilted his head in the opposite direction from his previous tilt, still in confusion though.   
  
It wasn’t like Thorin to lack for words like that. Then again, it wasn’t every day you had a loved one riding off into the sunset and leaving you behind. Something clenched in Bofur’s chest again and he started wondering if he’d eaten something he shouldn’t have. That fish thing had smelled a bit suspicious but he’d assumed that it was just since it was a fish thing.  
  
“Then since I don’t want to go either, it’s fairly lucky I’m staying,” Bofur concluded, looking up at Thorin; they were almost equal in height so he didn’t need to look very far, and trying for a smile.   
  
He’d not really expected an answering smile to form on Thorin’s lips and that one did surprised him enough that his own got lost somewhere half between a smile and a round shape of amazement.   
  
It was probably lucky that Thorin wasn’t the type to go around with a smile on his face, Bofur thought ruefully as he mentally smacked himself into shape, or certain other people - no one named, no one blamed - would go around looking like complete simpletons.

When the small smile slipped away Bofur felt like the sun had gone down.  
  
(No really, just a crush. Honest.)  
  
“I know you spent a lot of time trying to convince him to stay,” Thorin said carefully. “I’m sorry you did not succeed.”  
  
Well, of course he was sorry. Or did he mean that he blamed Bofur for not succeeding? Thorin didn’t look angry though, or even annoyed. He just looked sad. As sad as he’d looked when they’d believed they wouldn’t get the secret door open. Like he’d lost something that meant the world to him.  
  
Bofur rubbed at his chest. Dratted fish thing.  
  
“Well, so am I,” Bofur replied, his mind whirling in an attempt to find something to say that wouldn’t be a proclamation that he would never leave Thorin. “But we can go visit him I expect, once we’re properly settled here.”  
  
Instead of cheering Thorin up this made him look even sadder and Bofur rushed to expand on his idea. “It’d be good for Fíli to get some practice in at the whole ruling bit, and if Princess Dís helps him I’m sure that-“  
  
“I do not think I’d be amongst those who’d go,” Thorin said quietly, and Bofur bit his lip. Thorin must really love Bilbo if he couldn’t even visit him. The pain of leaving again would probably be too much even for the strongest of wills. He’d assumed that Bilbo returned Thorin’s feelings, but perhaps not since he’d been able to leave. Oh, what a right mess.  
  
“Did you offer to go with him?” Thorin’s eyes widened in shock and Bofur quietly cursed himself. “I mean, I don’t mean that you’d just abandon your people. Of course not. But you’re not just a King, you’re more than that, and I don’t think it’d be fair to-“  
  
“Bofur, why would _I_ want to go with Bilbo to the Shire?” Thorin demanded. “You are the one who-“  
  
“Because you love him?”  
  
“-has feelings for- what?”  
  
“You love him?” Bofur said again, hoping that he wasn’t making everything worse by stating it so bluntly. Maybe it was painful to hear it knowing that Bilbo had left.   
  
“ _You_ love him.” Thorin folded his arms over his chest, and Bofur got distracted for a moment, because arms and chest, before he recovered.  
  
“Er, no I don’t. Except maybe as a friend I guess.”  
  
“Yes, you do.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“ _Yes_.”  
  
“No?” Bofur was so confused.

“You don’t need to hide this from me,” Thorin said sternly. “It’s quite clear. I’ve known for a while now, even before your reaction when Bilbo said that he-”  
  
"I’m not in love with Bilbo,” Bofur said slowly. “I’m not.” He didn’t even have a _crush_ on him for crying out loud. And Bilbo was quite obviously not in love with him, so why would Thorin even think that-  
  
“If you follow him, you will get a chance to court him,” Thorin continued, apparently not listening to what Bofur was saying. “Even if he doesn’t return your feelings now, you shouldn’t give up. He would be lucky to have you.”  
  
The sad look was back in Thorin’s eyes and Bofur was entirely at a loss for what to do.  
  
“Thorin, if Bilbo is wanting to be courted by anyone, that would be you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“He obviously cares for you.” Bofur shuffled his feet. “I mean, we all do, but-“  
  
“Bilbo is _not_ in love with me,” Thorin said forcefully. “And he knows very well that I-“   
  
Thorin cut himself off and Bofur dared to reach out and pat him on the shoulder.  
  
“That you love him, yeah? But I think you’re wrong saying that he doesn’t return your feelings.”  
  
“What?” Thorin blinked, and his eyes flicked down to where Bofur’s hand was now stroking Thorin’s arm. By Mahal’s hammer... Bofur snatched his hand back and took a step away from Thorin.   
  
“I’m not in love with our burglar, and he’s not in love with me,” Thorin said, taking an step towards Bofur who took another step backwards, or he would have if he hadn’t brushed up against the wall. Drat. And was Thorin in denial? Was the pain so bad that he couldn’t even admit to it?  
  
Despite only being an inch or so taller, Thorin was excellent at looming, and now he did so over Bofur, who wavered between wanting to run away and wanting to fist his hands in Thorin’s coat and pull him closer.

“Um,” Bofur said, hands flexing at his side.   
  
“In fact, the last thing Bilbo said to me was that I should tell you how I felt,” Thorin continued, and he lowered his head and…   
  
Bofur’s brain promptly shut itself off, but before it did so there was a confused jumble of _lipslipsTHORINlipsishereallyIdon’tevensosoftwhat?_

When Bofur didn’t respond except to make a confused bleating noise, Thorin sighed and pulled back. “I see I was correct in telling him that I had my reasons _not_ to do so. My apologies.”   
  
“No, no, no,” Bofur managed, prompted into action once more when Thorin turned away and briskly began walking towards the stairs, slightly favouring his left side as he’d done ever since the battle. “No, Thorin, wait.”  
  
“I promise you,” Thorin said without stopping. “I’ll not bother you with this. I didn’t believe Bilbo when he hinted that you would-“  
  
“But it’s just a crush,” Bofur protested, snagging Thorin’s sleeve and tugging at it. “It’s just a crush.”  
  
Thorin turned towards him, his face stormy. “I’ll thank you not to presume to know what I feel for you.”  
  
“No, I mean, _me_?” Bofur released Thorin’s sleeve and clasped his hands behind his back.   
  
“You?”  
  
“Yes,” Bofur nodded. “It’s just supposed to be a crush. Because it’d be entirely foolish for someone like me to fall in love with someone like you. I’m, I’m just me, and you’re, well, you’re _you_.”

“Bofur…”  
  
“Yes, that’s me,” Bofur agreed. “And you’re Thorin, and there is no way on Arda that you’re really-“  
  
“You have a… crush on me?” Thorin asked slowly, and Bofur nodded again.   
  
“Yes, but, you’re not supposed to return it!”  
  
“You don’t want me to return your feelings?”  
  
Bofur gave Thorin a look that very blatantly accused him of being thicker than your average boulder. “Of course I do, but you’re not going to. You’re a King! And you’ve never been interested in anyone, well until Bilbo came along-”  
  
“I am not in love with the burglar,” Thorin said from between clenched teeth.  
  
“Back to not being interested in _anyone_ then.”

“Did you miss the part when I kissed you?” Thorin demanded, and Bofur blinked.  
  
“Oh, you did do that didn’t you?”  
  
“Mahal have mercy...” Thorin muttered and then Bofur’s eyes grew large as Thorin’s face came closer and…  
  
“You’re still not kissing me back,” Thorin murmured against Bofur’s lips.  
  
“Mwhe?” Bofur said.  
  
“You have a _crush_ on me,” Thorin stated, and Bofur nodded slowly, making their noses slide together in a most pleasing manner. “May I assume that means that you… find me somewhat pleasing?”  
  
Bofur pulled his head back and this time the look he gave Thorin implied that he was even thicker than your average Troll. “Well of course,” Bofur said. “Don’t be silly.”  
  
Thorin huffed softly. “Right. Then may I also assume that you do not have a _crush_ on the burglar?”  
  
“On Bilbo?”  
  
“Do you know any other burglars?”  
  
“Of course I don’t,” Bofur said with a frown. “Have a crush on Bilbo I mean. We’re friends, that’s all.”  
  
“Then why were you trying to crawl out of your skin trying to convince him to stay?” Thorin asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.   
  
“For you!” Bofur exclaimed. “He was leaving you and you were so sad.”  
  
“I was… unhappy, because I thought that _you_ would want to go with him. You were very upset when he told us.”  
  
“Because you were sad! _I_ don’t want to go with him,” Bofur said, shaking his head. “I want to stay.”  
  
“And I want you to stay,” Thorin said, voice dropping into a husky murmur. “And I would like for you to kiss me.”  
  
“Merbwh?”  
  
Thorin paid him no mind.   
  
“And if this crush of yours could eventually lead to something more, then I would very much like that as well.” He looked earnestly at Bofur, a small smile lurking around the corners of his mouth and the part of Bofur’s brain that had just clawed its way back up to sanity promptly tumbled off the cliff once more, falling even deeper when Thorin’s hand came up to cup his face, gently brushing a big thumb over one moustache.   
  
“Would you _want_ me to kiss you?” Thorin asked, and Bofur nodded, more on instinct than anything else.  
  
“Good,” Thorin murmured, and then thin, soft lips pressed against Bofur’s and against all odds he managed to drum up enough lucidity to kiss back.  
  
Kissing your King while standing in in plain view of anyone who pass by wasn’t very proper.  
  
Luckily, Bofur had never claimed to be a proper kind of Dwarf.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone once left me a comment about Bofur/Thorin and I’m sad to say I can’t remember who you were, but if you’re still hanging around hope you liked this.
> 
> This serves the purpose of cheering myself up *pokes at Big Bang* _behave._  
>  and making me write something that’s not Bilbo/Thorin at the same time ^^ well, except for in Bofur’s mind, but he was quite mistaken.


End file.
